


Foresight Isn't Just Visions

by RiddleMeThis17 (vivific)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Gen, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11024655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivific/pseuds/RiddleMeThis17
Summary: Harry is curious as to why he's found several books on his life. Curiosity is a cursed gift, as Harry heads off to Hogwarts armed with seven years of future knowledge.





	Foresight Isn't Just Visions

Harry Potter hated surprises, probably because none of the surprises he ever experienced were good.

When he woke up in the middle of the night and felt something digging into his foot, he groaned. Dudley would often place books in his cupboard when he wanted to frame Harry for stealing them. Harry pushed the books away with his foot, until he felt paper rub against his toe.

Curiosity taking over, he turned on the light, and quickly picked up the note.

_Dear Harry Potter,_

_What you see here are books on your life. Yes, this has nothing to do with the Dursleys, they do not possess any knowledge of these books, although perhaps in the far future, billions of people will._

_I understand that you are probably wondering who I am, but my identity will be revealed at a later time._

_Do not allow anyone other than yourself read these books, for if they fall into the wrong hands, the world as we know it will be doomed._

_Read these books carefully, and be sure to look at everything neutrally. There are many sides to a story, and many different perspectives. Not everything is as it seems._   
_—HBG_

Harry blinked. To say he was surprised would be like saying the sun is tiny. Books on his life? Was he supposed to read them alone? He did have a lot of time, according to his old wristwatch he'd stolen from Dudley, it was still very early in the morning. What was there to lose?

He picked up the first book, titled Harry Potter and the Philosopher Stone, accompanied with a drawn picture of him looking surprised at a red train that said "Hogwarts Express". The picture him was almost a caricature, looking nothing like him, but still resembling him. The book was a hardcover, and there was no information on the back. He flipped open the book.

His eyes widened as he read, who was You-Know-Who? Who were these people? A man appearing out of nowhere, turning off all the streetlamps? A woman who could transform into a cat? A flying _motorcycle_? He realised the book began after the deaths of his parents, and subconsciously smiled as the professors spoke of them. Would he learn more of his family? He was a bit angered at his Uncle Vernon's His curiosity and awe grew as the second chapter opened. Tomorrow was Dudley's birthday, that meant that the events were placed starting tomorrow! He quickly calmed himself and read on. He was awed at the prospect of Hogwarts. He would go there, he had to. His mood was slightly doused as his Uncle Vernon destroyed all the letters, but it raised when Hagrid came to give him his letter. The pages almost flipped themselves after that. Hermione seemed like a nice girl, perhaps a bit too obsessed with books, but still nice. Ron, on the other hand, made him a bit uncertain. Although his book-self had been experiencing it and probably wasn't thinking straight, Harry didn't think Ron was very nice... Continuing on, he cringed at Ron's tactlessness, and felt very guilty when Hermione was almost killed by the troll, half-wishing his book-self had been more sensible and went after her instead of staying with Ron, who he was liking less and less. It was always those who were less likely to commit a crime. When he reached the end of the first book, he noticed only forty minutes had elapsed, and quickly grabbed the second book.

The second book was slightly disconcerting. The house-elf called Dobby trying to keep him from going to Hogwarts, something running around the school and Petrifying people. He almost hit himself with the book. What _was_ it!? He tried calming himself when he realised that Hermione had been Petrified, and was relieved when it was announced that the Mandrake potion was almost done, but quietly wondered why they didn't just buy Mandrake Potion from a shop. He wished he could reach into the book and strangle Lockhart. His annoyance and fury increased when the pompous idiot tried to Obliviate their memories, as he had done to so many other people before. He wondered why he never realised it before when it turned out Tom Riddle had been- would become Voldemort, and that he had set the Basilisk on the school. He grinned when everyone was un-Petrified, and Dobby was freed. The elf had been a bit annoying and almost killed him, albeit for good reason, but he knew how it felt to be forced to work for people and get so little in return.

The third book was hope lifting. He had a godfather! Albeit a wanted one, but a godfather nonetheless. He shivered at the descriptions of the Dementors, then paused, wondering how the sender of the books had come into possession of them? If every year stood for a book, then they were far into the future. He cringed at losing Quidditch, quickly reminding himself that it hadn't happened yet and he could still change the events. He felt odd when he heard his parents' last words. No one wanted to hear their parents' last words, but they were the only words he'd ever hear from them. He felt annoyed at Ron when he always blamed Hermione, despite the fact that, logically, cats did chase mice.

The fourth book lead him to judge his friends, not that they were his friends yet. He was shocked as his name was called out in the Tournament, almost whizzed through the fight with the Horntail, and cringed at the Yule Ball. Breathing a sigh of relief at the safe outcome of the second task, he wondered what was up with Moody continuously appearing. Yes, he might have wanted to help, but even so... He read the resurrection of Voldemort and the death of Cedric Diggory in morbid curiosity, he had to change it, he had to. After the revelation that Moody had been Polyjuiced, he made a mental note to not believe people so easily.

Fifth year was a battle of patience. He half wanted to slap his future self and half hex the ministry into oblivion. If the British ministry was that corrupt, perhaps he should seek schooling elsewhere if it was possible, but no, he had to change things for the better, and that meant staying at Hogwarts. He wanted to throw Umbridge off a cliff and into a pit of fire. It was just awful. Another mental note, change the government. Or he could just leave it as it was and hope it changed. Should he?

He felt pride when Dumbledore's Army was created, and when everyone became so much closer. He felt like he was a part of something bigger, something... magical. His happy mood was destroyed when Cho's friend told Umbridge about them. The entire thing with Cho seemed doomed from the start. He wondered why he'd ever like her, although he assumed it was only because she was pretty and maybe that's how people acted at that age.

He became anxious when his book/future-self received the vision of Sirius being tortured. Looking at it from a different perspective... It did seem an awful lot like a trap. Voldemort wouldn't accidentally open the link. He again felt pride and worry as his friends, along with Neville, Ginny and Luna came with him to the Ministry of Magic, which was also ridiculously easy to enter. As the battle heightened, he was afraid that someone would get hurt. And someone did.

He didn't scream or cry when Sirius died, even though he'd read about him, Sirius didn't hold a place in his heart, none of his friends in the future did. He felt responsibility for their safety, but any person with a conscience would. He felt rather pleased at causing his godfather's murderer pain, although he briefly wondered if that made him evil. He felt satisfied that the world now knew of Voldemort's return, and thought that other than Sirius' death, things were moving along well.

The sixth book had him hesitating, it was obvious someone was going to die again. Did he want to read it? Voldemort was out, and he was definitely going to cause deaths. He read on, smiling at Ron and Hermione's romance, and cringing at his own. Why _did_ he like Ginny? Wasn't it a bit suspicious that he started liking Ginny after Love Potions were introduced? Trying to skip over the awful romance between him and Ginny, he felt sympathy with the devil as he read of Tom Riddle's story. He was right in the second book, when they said they were similar. No one listened to Tom Riddle until he gained power over others. The sole difference was that everyone listened to Harry, usually, but no one acted on it.

He gasped when his future self almost killed Draco, and actually dropped the book when Snape killed Dumbledore. He breathed in, neutrality, he saw everything from his perspective, but he didn't know the full story.

Seventh book was going to kill him. Every single mentioned death and injury and tragedy had him pausing, taking a breath and thinking. Look at everything neutrally, he reminded himself. He couldn't get distracted. He bit his lip as Ron left and felt uneasy when he returned. Was Ron really a good friend? Yes, he did come back in the end, He didn't know whether to be happy or sad when Snape died and proved that he was really on the side of the Light. He cheered silently as each Horcrux was destroyed, although some at costs of life.

Just because he was trying to stay neutral as the letter suggested he do, didn't mean he didn't care about the lives of others.

Every death, every scream, every drop of blood spilt over the war could and would be avoided. He had the power to, there had to be a reason why the mysterious HBG person sent them to him.

Although... Why did he trust the letter so easily?

He glanced at the epilogue, Dumbledore's words still ringing in his ears and shook his head. He didn't need to know what happened to his children, no doubt he'd married Ginny. It was a bit too predictable in his opinion.

He closed the book slowly, almost feeling sorry that his story had ended like that.

His story? It sounded almost unbelievable. Almost. Would he have the courage to do those things and feats he'd accomplished? Or his future self had?

He yawned, tucking the books and note safely under some old clothes, pushing them into a dark corner. Turning off the light, he fell back asleep.

Several hours later, he was awoken by Aunt Petunia screeching at him. Mumbling, he sat up, rubbed his eyes and smiled as he remembered the books.

"Alright, alright. I'm up." He said, still smiling as Aunt Petunia's footsteps faded.

His story hadn't ended, it was only just beginning.


End file.
